A Childs Fear - the nightmare before Hogwarts
by PagesofPotter
Summary: Albus' impending trip to Hogwarts leads to some terrible nightmares. Can Harry comfort his son, and persuade him that the school will be one of the best experiences of Albus' life, and not the epitome of all his terrors? Terrible summary, apologies, but my first fanfic in a while. Bit fluffy at the end. I do not own anything Harry Potter.


Albus was running, running as fast as his 10 year-old legs would carry him. The surrounding corridors were made of old stone, towered above his head, and were laden with huge gold framed paintings with figures that followed him as he whipped passed. It seemed never ending, length after length of winding carpet and stone.

His dad had always said Hogwarts was a gigantic exciting labyrinth.

But Albus was not excited; he was scared. He stole a quick look over his shoulder. It was following him, the darkness, creeping along the walls with huge hands grasping from picture to picture, pursuing him. A light shone ahead of him, though despite his desperate need to approach it, he couldn't see what was casting it. And it wasn't getting any closer.

His legs hurt with the running, and he could feel his heart beating against his chest in time with the stamping of his feet. "What are you?" Albus panted, "please, what are you?" But he knew, deep inside. The darkness was full of everything he was terrified of; Dementors, Mermaids, Kreacher the house elf, his parents' occasional arguments and… death. That which made his parent's eyes so sad. No one had ever told Albus much about the Battle of Hogwarts, except when he had cornered Neville at the New Year's party at his grandparents' house. Neville had reluctantly told him about people like Uncle Fred, Remus and Tonks, and others like Sirius, Mad Eye Moody, Dobby and Dumbledore, who had all given their lives to rid the magical world of Voldemort. Albus couldn't imagine what his parent's had been through at that time, and he saw the scars it had left on everyone. And he was scared of that.

Smack.

Pain erupted in Albus' forehead, making his eyes shake in his skull. The air was thrown out of his lungs as he fell backwards and hit the wooden floor. For a few moments, Albus lay confused, staring up at the ceilingless wall that had risen in front of him. The light was gone. Scrambling up, Albus turned around. The darkness was speeding towards him, lapping up the carpet, consuming everything he had run past. Ugly Dementors groped towards him as his mum and dad's shouting and Kreacher's haunting whispers assaulted his ears. No escape. Albus closed his eyes as much as he could. When the darkness hit him, he didn't want to feel it, see it or hear it.

"Albus!" Someone was yelling his name from the darkness. "Albus!"

He was so afraid; he didn't want this and he couldn't go to Hogwarts. All his fears seemed to manifest themselves there, just behind those titanic wooden doors that James spoke of. At first, Albus had wished for his dad to tell him everything about his time at school and fighting Voldemort. He wanted to know why the whole wizarding world knew his dad's name. But recently, when he realised that he would be descending on the school in a few months, Albus had begun to run from the stories. What if Hogwarts was as dangerous for him as it seemed to be for his dad? Albus was not like his dad; he couldn't face those monsters.

The darkness struck him like a poisonous wave of freezing water. Albus slammed, defenceless, against the wall and felt the terror buffet around him. The cold was stinging, the wind throttling, and invisible claws began to scrape mercilessly at his clothes, hair and skin. Albus could feel his happy memories being torn from his consciousness by the shrouded faceless Dementors. "No!" Albus screamed silently. Still blind, he slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the desperate screaming from his parents, brother and sister that swirled around him like a tornado. Falling to his knees, Albus cried out again. He couldn't take it. His heart and mind were breaking. He was going to be ripped apart.

"Al, wake up!"

This darkness would not end. Albus would be here, curled and tiny in the haunted depths of Hogwarts, being deafened and suffocated by his most terrifying imaginings, for the rest of his days. "No. No, please", he sobbed, but the tears were snatched from his cheeks.

"Albus, you're dreaming!"

His friends, his family, his world, were gone. How could he endure this?

Out of the darkness, a shapeless something reached out and grasped Albus' shoulder. He jerked away. No, you are not dragging me further down. I can't bare it. Albus thrashed against the warm grip, twisting his body and trying to fling himself away into the world he refused to see.

"Open your eyes, Albus!"

Almost unconsciously, he did so. Fantastic light suddenly seared through this nightmare, assaulting his eyeballs and seemingly striking the back of his brain. Hardly able to breathe, Albus blinked desperately, still viciously squirming against his captor. What was happening? Why couldn't he see? What was attacking him now? But no fresh collision came from this new invisible assailant. The hold on his shoulders no longer burned through him, but felt secure and reassuring. Against the light, bleary forms began to dance in front of him. Shrieking winds and desperate cries seemed to lull around him, as if he had dropped to safety underwater far beneath the demons above. The scratching talons retreated, strangling claws ceased and Albus was able to breathe again.

"Help me" he whispered.

A moment of silence, then his father's voice filled the air; "Albus?" The voice wasn't shouting, it wasn't hurt or angry; it was deep, comforting and right beside him. Fresh tears trickled down Albus' cheeks as he stood on shaking legs and reached towards the light.

Harry was kneeling in his son's bedroom, close to the back wall where he had found Albus asleep, crying and curled on the carpet. Harry had woken about 10 minutes ago to Ginny shaking his arm. Even in the dark of their bedroom, Harry had seen the alarmed look on his wife's face. "What is it?" he had asked, reaching for his glasses. "Albus is crying" she had replied, shifting to get out of bed. "It must be those nightmares." Harry listened, and could just hear the muffled sobbing coming from the direction of his youngest son's room. "I'll go," Harry muttered, reaching the door before Ginny and nodding reassuringly at her tired yet sad expression.

Since then, Harry had been on the floor beside his weeping son, trying his best to cradle and wake him from his consuming nightmare. He felt so helpless, constantly saying Albus' name over and over again, yet not being able to wake him. Harry could hardly watch as Albus' expressions changed as he flew from one horror to another. He did not understand what had caused this sudden wave of night terrors that seemed to plague his son. Ginny kept insisting it was his imminent journey to Hogwarts; it was the first time he was leaving home after all. But James had been fine! He couldn't understand it.

"Dad?" Albus' voice was weak and panting as he slowly emerged from the depths of his dream. He had risen up from the wooden floor and clambered weightlessly towards consciousness, leaving his terrors behind him. As Albus' eyes opened fully, it took him a few silent seconds to get his baring's; the surface beneath him was solid, not his bed, and he was leaning against a figure who had warm protective arms wrapped around his back, one large hand on his shoulder. "Dad?" His dad's tired face came into focus and Albus slowly sat up, wiping his tear stained face clumsily with the back of his hand. "It's alright Al, you were just dreaming." Harry gently ruffled Albus' dark hair, and let silence fall between them as Albus composed himself. Harry was just glad his son had returned to reality.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Albus muttered, fiddling deliberately with a loose thread on his pyjama shirt. He felt embarrassed, foolish and childlike, curled on his rug beneath his father's sympathetic gaze. He was still shaking slightly from the shock of his unconscious experience.

Harry looked at his son intently; he could tell Albus felt ashamed with himself and his fears. He sat down beside him, legs laid straight out in front of him, as he pulled Albus close to him. "It's alright to have bad dreams, you know" he said quietly, "I still had them until I was 18." Albus looked up at Harry, his deep eyes understanding and drinking the comforting honesty. "It's nothing to be ashamed of" Harry continued. Albus nodded slowly.

"What is it you're so afraid of?" Harry felt his son go rigid beneath his grasp as he recalled the inhabitants of his nightmare. He could see the internal battle raging inside his son; should he be honest with his father and admit his fears? Or stay quiet, prey the monsters disappear of their own accord, and so safeguard his young pride? Harry hugged his son closer. "You can tell me, you know. I won't tell mum if you don't want me to." Albus still remained quiet. "And we shan't tell James."

A few more seconds of heavy silence hung in the air before Albus exhaled; "Hogwarts." Harry blinked. Ginny had been right - of course. "What is it about Hogwarts?" Harry asked, careful to keep his voice understanding and maintain the reassuring hold on his son. Albus sighed, and circled the thread around his forefinger. "There seems to be so many-" he paused; he did not want to say monsters, "dark things and creatures and problems there." Harry frowned. Albus continued, wiping his watery eyes; "James is always saying how fights Bogarts and goes to the dungeons and dives in the lake- And you, all those things that tried to kill you, and you fought all those dark wizards… I – I could never do that." Harry couldn't help smiling down at his son after this confession; poor Albus, he had been suffering under his brother's exaggerated stories and tales of old dangers that he will never have to face.

"Albus, listen to me," Harry said, kindly yet firmly. Albus raised his head to look at his father's face. "James likes to exaggerate his adventures. All these things he says he's faced, well, he hasn't. He's never been in any real danger. The teachers at Hogwarts wouldn't allow it. If he were to get into any trouble, it would be through his own overconfidence and stupidity." Albus' frightened features softened. "Now," Harry continued, "I know you have got the sense to never get yourself into a dangerous situation." He shrugged, "it took me a while to learn that sense. And James will learn it one day too." Harry held his son's hand. "If you ever were to find yourself in a… sticky situation – very unlikely, remember – I'd bet my wand that you would be able to sort yourself out. It's in your blood." A smile spread across both their faces. Albus was feeling more and more reassured by the second. He had always guessed his thritbrother's stories had not been entirely truthful, but to hear it from his father's authoritative lips was the best antidote for his fears. He squeezed his dads hand.

"And as for the dodgy defence teachers, death eaters and Dark Lords…" Harry said, sensing the fears dwindling in his son's mind, "they've all been dealt with. So don't you worry." Harry recalled the moment he had defeated Lord Voldemort, in the courtyard of Hogwarts, surrounded by fire, boulders, destruction and the dead. Everyone had risked everything that day to ensure the wizarding world could be safe again. The stories of that time live on in his generation and the next, but that particular darkness had long been vanquished.

Harry looked down into his son's hopeful face, and saw what he had been fighting for. He gently ruffled Albus' hair again; "You should just concentrate on making your time at Hogwarts the best years of your life. Because they will be, Albus. It is the most magical place in our world and you will love it."

The pair were quiet for a minute, while Harry recalled his favourite times at his first real home, and Albus consciously threw each of his qualms about Hogwarts out of his mind, banishing them with the new found confidence that he would love the school, like everyone before him; after all, it was in his blood. As his dad had said, Albus would not go looking for danger, but if it were to find him, he would meet it with the same defiance and bravery he undoubtedly inherited from both his parents. "Thanks Dad." He hugged his father, his young arms wrapped around Harry's broad figure as far as they could reach. Harry embraced his son in return, feeling his love for his children and his life swell inside him; he was fully aware of how lucky he was.

Together they stood up, and Albus clambered back into his bed. Lying down, Albus smiled as his dad threw the duvet over him from where it was been twisted on the floor. As he leant over to switch off Albus' bedside light, Harry kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to Albus' forehead; "Night Al. I'll see you in the morning." Albus squirmed back into his comfortable sleeping position high on his pillow, and pulled the duvet up to his chin. "Night dad," he whispered, his eyes falling to a calm and hopeful sleep, where he could drift among the boats across the lake, and through the huge doors where he could stare up to the shifting staircases and enchanted ceiling, and wallow in the thrilling feeling of residing in one of the most magical and captivating places in his world.


End file.
